When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do
by Quizicalcoatl
Summary: Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo is pansexual, and he's being sent to a gay conversation camp after an abusive childhood. Lovino Vargas is bisexual, and he is one of the only staff members at Camp Rome, a conversion camp with a secret. So... Who's going to break first?
1. Chapter 1

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M because of homophobia/LGBTQ conversion camps, mentions of death, child abuse (not sure if it qualifies as mentioned or not), and strong language courtesy of Romano

Warning: YO! SUP? This is about LBGTQ conversion camps (usually called gay conversion camps), which is NOT A SUBJECT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY! They are horrible, horrible places and should not exist. However, this fanfiction takes place... You'll see. Please realize that these types of places are awful and I DO NOT IN ANY WAY SUPPORT THEM!

Talking: It's not obvious, but this takes place in the American Deep South, where I think this is most likely to happen and has a few places that do this (and I've traveled to the region so I can probably write it).

Ah, darling Austria, why do I always write you? Why are you accidentally a jerk for awhile in here? And why are there always mentions of your previous (canon) marriage to Spain? Seriously. Why. TELL ME.

Spain's brother is Portugal!

Spanish translations (this time all me, for once writing a bilingual character whose second language I speak alright too) at the bottom. Nothing REALLY major, though. :D

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

We were just children. We fell in love the way children do-head over heels, with quiet, shy confessions in school hallways, nervous giggles as we walked to the recitals for his piano or my guitar, and never anything more than a quick peck on the lips. We held hands at recess. I loved him with all my heart, and he loved me, too.

My mother hated me for it. She hated me the way adults do-with heavy-handed punches and sharp words with seemed natural coming from her mouth, and more painful than anything she had done to me physically. My father had left four years, five months and six days ago (I counted, like a prisoner waiting for when he would finally escape) and had taken my brother with him. He wasn't there to keep Madre from hurting me anymore.

I was born pansexual, and it was apparently all my fault.

"¡Hola! Rodreich, wait!" I called, bouncing up to him. I placed a quick kiss on his cheek in greeting and he didn't return the favor, but didn't reject it, either, like he used to do. I take it as a good sign. I take everything as good signs. It makes my life so much happier.

"Good morning, Antonio," he replies, voice musical (it's always musical, accented, familiar). We fall into step side by side as we walk to school. I fill the silence with chatter, and he seems content with that.

We walked through the school hallways just like that, ignoring the strange looks and tide of whispers that followed us with practiced ease.

When I said goodbye and stepped into Math, he vanished down the hall to English Language Arts and I could only hope he would not be intercepted on the way (bullies are petty, and often too scared to take on the two of us at once).

I settled into my seat, next to a girl whose name I can't remember, and began to work.

When I got home, Madre glares me a warning, and I hurry into my room with my head down, not daring to meet her eyes. I drop my backpack by my bed and drop onto it. I don't have enough time to sit back up and find something to hide behind as I hear Madre's footsteps fall heavy outside my room.

"You're leaving in a week," she growls out, opening the door with a bang. My eyes are wide with shock. "Camp Rome. They'll fix you."

Then she turns and slams the door on me, and I practically melt back onto my bed. Next week is the last week of school, but of course she doesn't care about my education being cut off at the end of the year. She doesn't care about me at all, I don't think. No, no, of course she doesn't. She won't love me until I love the right people, will she? But that doesn't matter now.

I roll onto my back, processing everything I heard.

Camp Rome, huh? 'Fix me?'

Does she mean a...?

My blood runs cold, like the frost I saw once when I was a child, netted over the window like broken glass. I freeze, staring up at the ceiling with wide green eyes. No...

She's going to send me to one of those hellholes, isn't she?

•time skip brought to you by the 2P!s

"No, Antonio," Rodreich says coldly as I go to kiss his cheek in greeting this morning. I pause, glancing at his deep brown eyes to see what's wrong.

"Rodreich?" I wonder. He pushes me away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"No thank you, Antonio," he repeats. I tilt my head in confusion, but step back.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He sighs.

"Ja, I am fine... Just, I... Well, I'll put it bluntly. You and me are not going to work out. Please understand," he says. "I have... I don't really feel it anymore."

"Feel it?" I repeat, emotionless, the smile gone from my face. I think I know what he's talking about. I don't like it.

"We-us, together-are not going to work," he says, more firmly, and strides away with steps that are also firm and certain. I stare after him. My usual smile and bright-eyed face has been replaced with an emotionless demeanor.

Ah.

I see it now.

So my whole life is falling apart... That's okay too, I guess.

Es nada (no, no, es todo-).

Translations:

Spanish - English

Madre - Mother (Madre is more formal than Mamá and it fits)

¡Hola! - Hello!

Es nada (no, no, es todo-) - It's nothing (no, no, it's everything-)


	2. Chapter 2

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M because of homophobia/LGBTQ conversion camps, mentions of death, child abuse, and strong language courtesy of Romano

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Lovino Vargas's POV

Damn. Poor kids.

I'm usually not one to be all sympathetic and mushy, but... As I flip through the thirty medical records handed in for this year's camp (I'm pleased to see a few managed to fool their parents into letting them come back), and see broken bones and second or third degree burns and at least a dozen sprained ankles or wrists, I wince. Not to mention the divorces, the occasional deaths in their family histories.

Poor, poor kids.

The doors are opened and a familiar figure bounces into the room and, to my horror, over to me. "Ciao! Ve, Lovino, camp starts in only three days!"

I push my younger brother away, "I'm aware of that, and that means we have a lot of work to do, why aren't you doing it?" I hiss.

Feliciano's face falls. "I did some of it, and I was wondering if-"

"No! No, I won't do your work for you! Check the kitchen again or clean out the cabins or something, I'm busy," I order. "And make sure Grandpa Roma didn't forget anything!"

"But Lovi..." he trails off. I wave him out of the room, scowl painted across my face, before turning to the records again.

Thirty attendees coming from out of town. Plus the rest of us, that's thirty-four in the cabins.

I sigh, and start working on the fake cabin chart-mostly just throwing names on. There's only two kids this year who this would really matter much to, so I feel a little less guilty: a transgendered girl whose birth name is Eilán, and a genderfluid kid whose birth name is Feliks.

We'll change the assignments later, of course. The girl will be with the other girls then. There's only Katyusha, Natalya, Lilli, Mei, Bella and a few others this year-a total of nine, plus this Feliks person. I wonder briefly why, and immediately answer it-we're supposed to be a gay conversion camp, and obviously (if you'll excuse the sarcasm) women can't be homosexual.

Well, then there's Lucille, who's probably more attached to her poker chips than she is to Romeo... But that's a story for another time.

I hate having to do this-all this secrecy. But we need to. For them.

And anything for a good cause, I guess.

•time skip brought to you by the Nyotalias

"Si, si, no need to worry, ma'am," I say to a tall Hispanic woman. She has a young boy by her side-a little older than I, but still young. He tries to shift away from her, his deep green eyes wide with some mix of terror and horror and panic I can't describe. I think back to the medical records. One broken ankle, two broken fingers, a sprained wrist, and diagnosed-yet-untreated mild anxiety.

Seriously, why am I so sympathetic all the sudden? This isn't...

She nods, curt and uninterested, before squeezing the child's wrist and turning to leave.

He has red marks there now, in the shape of fingers. He doesn't react, just glances down for a moment as if to confirm that there are marks before redirecting his gaze towards me and trying for a smile. His eyes dart from side to side, like he's on the verge of running, and I sigh. I'm making a mental note on that for when we try to press legal charges on abusive parents later on.

"This way," I order gruffly. I glance around the area-the flat landscape, fields of grass as far as you can see in any direction, every once in awhile blocked by a small house or a barn. We're alone out here, so I step closer and whisper to him: "Calm down. My name's Lovino Vargas, and my family is going to keep you safe-we're not running any sort of conversion camp. We just have to keep the act up when there's other people around."

He gives me a strange look, "¿Qué?"

I walk toward the Main House briskly. "We'll explain it more later, once the parents are all gone, just don't get too stressed in the meantime."

"Si." His voice is still nervous. He follows me, and I notice with a hint of annoyance he's taller than me (damn you random green-eyed person who has not introduced himself yet and damn you Feliciano and Romeo for all being taller than me).

Ah, well. I just have to get him inside, and get all these horrible excuses for parents away from here, and then we can all settle down into a rhythm where they're free to do what they want.

As I lead him into the first floor of Main House (a large, empty room, Feliciano and Grandpa Rome's paintings pasted all over the walls), I give Romeo's girlfriend from Monaco a small, confident smirk. Lucille brushes past me as we walk through the doorway.

"Good job," I whisper to her. A small piece of paper is slipped into my hand, and then she's gone.

Translations:

Spanish - English

¿Qué? - What?

Si - Yes

Italian - English

Si - Yes

Ciao! - hello!


	3. Chapter 3

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M because of homophobia/LGBTQ conversion camps, mentions of death, child abuse, and strong language courtesy of Romano

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

I am so confused it's not even funny.

Madre told me this-Camp Rome-was a gay conversion camp, a place that would 'fix me.' I don't think I need to e fixed, though. Do I?

Then, as soon as Madre leaves (and gives me the parting gift of what will surely become a handprint of bruises around my wrist), the sketchy-looking counselor tells me that Madre was wrong. Lovino says that they 'just have to keep the act up,' whatever that means.

I won't deny I'm terrified out of my mind, but... I'll just have to hope what Lovino said is true!

Lovino shows me into a large room with pretty wooden walls. They're covered with paintings-sometimes on paper, sometime painted directly onto the wood. The ceiling is tall and domed, and yellowed lights hang from it. The room is full of nervous children, so Lovino consults a chart he's made and seats me next to two boys.

One is tall, one is short. The taller one looks a lot taller because of his hair, which sticks straight up. He has a stern, impossible-to-read expression on a slightly scarred face. I can't tell if his eyes are yellow or green. The shorter one wears a nervous frown and a pinstripe suit (what's doing wearing a suit in a Southern summer?), and his light brown hair flops down to cover one eye.

I smile brightly, and say, "¡Hola, me llamó Antonio!"

They both shoot me confused looks, and I realize that this might not be the best time to be making small talk. I quiet myself.

A young boy with a blockish curl and olive green eyes waves the last parent out, and then bounces up to the front of the room to stand by the other five counselors (however, four of the six look even younger than me. Is that legal?).

They stand proudly, all lined up-the boy with the blockish curl and light brown hair, his arm thrown around a severe-looking girl with long, mousy hair, another boy with a wide grin, the signature curl and tightly-squinted eyes, and a final who only looks a little bit younger than I-a year or two, I'd guess, maybe three years-and wears a stern scowl.

The eldest two step forward to speak at the same time, then turn and glare at each other. After a few seconds of tension-filled silence, the blonde one mutters something under his breath and steps back.

The man with a head full of curls says, "Aves! Good morning! I'm Romulus Vargas, but you can just call me Roma! I'm from Rome, after all," he introduces. "Welcome to Camp Rome! We are a safe haven for the LGBTQ community! However, your parents think you're at a gay conversion camp, so we'll be keeping this all hush-hush!"

Several whispers are heard from the crowd. What does hush-hush actually mean? And is this stuff even legal?

The blonde pushed him aside (clearly, there is no love lost between those two), and Roma stumbles before regaining his balance and standing back. I half-expect him to make weird faces at the blonde and I'm not disappointed.

The crowd stirs and tries not to laugh. The blonde turns, furious, and Romulus immediately resumes a casual expression. He's given a glare before the other man turns back to speak.

"My name is Gauthier Beilschmidt, a co-director of Camp Rome," he says. His sky blue eyes search the audience until they land on a small group of children-four boys and a girl. "My grandchildren are apparently all attending," he continues, a mildly confused frown on his face. I think he goes on to say more but I'm too busy staring, my eyes wide in shock.

Rodreich is here.

Translation:

Latin - English

Aves! - "Hey!" or "Howdy!" or "Hello!" or something like that.

Spanish - English

¡Hola, me llamó Antonio! - Hello, I'm called Antonio!

Madre - Mother


	4. Chapter 4

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M; I think you know why by now

Talking: Liechtenstein, Taiwan and Hungary are being fangirls in this chapter, actually, so I might need to include that as a warning...

THERE ARE SO MANY TINY CANON THINGS THAT APPEARED ONLY ONCE OR TWICE. A MILLION IMAGINARY U.S. DOLLARS TO WHOEVER POINTS THEM ALL OUT IN A REVIEW.

Lovi is so done with world. Just done. So done.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Lovino Vargas's POV

The cabins have been dished out.

Feliks/Felicja was invited to stay with Michelle, who's from Seychelles, and Romeo's girlfriend Lucille. Erzsébet (as I have discovered "Eláin's" preferred name is) has been slotted in with a Liechtensteiner girl, Elise, and a Taiwanese one (not Chinese, she repeated) called Mei-good. My plans didn't completely go to waste, at least (I wouldn't really mind if they did, though, as long as everyone's happy).

When I see them huddled together in a corner, the flower Mei wore in her hair tucked behind Erzsébet's ear, I almost smile... Until Mei points to a couple boys, conversing, and the three blush and giggle together.

I turn away determinedly, a little shaken, and back to my own cabin.

A Dutch named Abel, older than me, who has been longingly staring at the garden visible in the distance for the past few minutes. He is completely silent. There's the Luxemburger called Louis, who has been talking quietly with the green-eyed Spaniard from before, now cheerily introduced as Antonio.

Just great. And I'm not being sarcastic at all.

Why are they from so many different countries? I don't have enough time or energy to care.

"Alright... Come on, idiots, we have to get to the cabin!" I snap, turning on my heel. There's a pause, then Antonio scurries after me, followed by Louis and Abel.

We walk, and Antonio tries to talk to me. "¡Gracias! You really made it less confusing earlier," he says. I shoot his a sideways glare.

"You clearly need it as easy to understand as possible," I reply. He pouts a little, lip pushed out, hurt. That kind of expression doesn't look good on his face.

"So, why are you here? I thought you ran the place?" he wonders. I realize that Abel and Louis have started a conversation behind us. I overhear the words 'art of bunnies and dogs and clean kitchens and piles of gold.' I decide not even Antonio should be subjected to that.

"Illegal," I answer him shortly. "We're technically campers."

"Si, that makes sense." He nods a little, as if not to anyone in particular. "Are you... You know, gay or trans or anything?"

"Bi," I answer. "Shut up."

He pouts-again with the lip-and does so, walking beside me silently and once steadying me when I trip over my own feet. I give him a reluctant 'thanks, bastard,' and he merely shrugs. I don't think he knows how to reply to that.

We arrive at last. My things are all already there (Grandpa Roma has kicked us out of the Main House, saying it'll be a good "learning experience." But since when have adults been right?). The other three plop their bags down by bunks, only briefly squabbled over. They're probably too tired or confused or both to argue much.

And of course, they don't have much to argue over, anyway. The cots are small and sagging. The cabin is one-room with log walls have been painted brown with what looks like splatters of mud, and there are no panes in the windows, and we have spiders and cobwebs in the rafters.

Welcome to your new home, I suppose I should tell them. I don't. They can figure it out themselves.

(Definitely more of a home than they places they came from were, anyway.)

•time skip brought to you by the Cardverse au

I go up to the Main House early, to cook pasta for lunch with Feliciano. My cabin mates know their way back (not that I care!), and Romeo will pop by anyway to show the them the way with everyone else.

I get there, and I walk straight to the other side of the large, first-floor room. Feliciano and an unfamiliar blonde boy are putting up and setting those folding tables, with gray plastic tabletops and flimsy supports but all in all good enough to eat on. At least, in theory they are-the blonde seems to be doing most of the heavy lifting while Feli sets them, chattering in that singsong voice he has.

"Feli! Get over here, we have food to make!" I shout, choosing to ignore the stranger. Some years Feliciano brings his friends to help set up.

"Coming, ve~" Feliciano replies, putting down a stack of plates before slipping towards me, calling back, "Can you finish that? Grazie Luddy!"

"I told you my name is Ludwig," the other says, but flips the last table into an upright position with a faint clattering before starting on the silverware.

Feliciano makes his way into the kitchen-a small room in the corner, with a counter connecting it and the larger room. Feli keeps talking to Ludwig through that open space as we take out the ingredients and supplies-tomatoes, check. Linguini, check. Colander, check... I go through the list in my head. I have it memorized.

A few hours later, we're finishing up our mass-producing of pasta as the first few people wander in through the doors, looking overall very lost and bewildered. There's a Belgian girl-Emma, I remember-alongside Lucille, Elise, and-goddammit, not him again.

And for God's sake, why is Antonio arriving with all the girls?

Translations:

Spanish - English

¡Gracias! - Thanks/thank you!

Italian - English

Grazie - Thanks/thank you

Lol it's a very grateful chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Have you ever read your own writing and then paused like "who the hell does this author think they are this is literal garbage" and then realize it was you and end up rewriting the entire thing? Yeah. Sorry for not updating yesterday.

Um. I know how to flamenco dance. So that's where that came from.

The little canon things last chapter were, since nobody guessed:

-Netherlands likes to garden, and hates messy gardens.

-Netherlands and Luxembourg once made a deal for art.

-Netherlands has a bunny, while Luxembourg has a large gray dog.

-Luxembourg is extremely rich.

-Netherlands doesn't like messy kitchens, either.

-Romano is bi-he has been known to flirt with women, but also indirectly accepted Spain's marriage proposal. "If you give me pasta and naps, sure." -basically Romano

-Romano is clumsy due to having the disease Chorea as a child.

There's no one source, really~ But maybe .net

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

Dinner was fine-it was what happened afterward that surprised me. Seriously-what do all these people have against dance?

We talked and laughed so much I nearly forgot to eat, then the boy sitting beside me glared until I remembered (I couldn't understand his speech, as it was heavily accented and he couldn't seem to be able to pronounce his vowels right). Then he went back to his own food, apparently satisfied that I would not accidentally starve.

We've been challenged not to sit with anyone we know, so I'm sitting with five strangers, family-style around a table. The room has more tables, but I sat down where I could. Gradually, they introduced themselves as Romeo, Lucille, Berwald, Yong Soo and Toris. I've been talking cheerily with them, and I don't think I can stop grinning.

Yong Soo steals Romeo's pasta. Lucille plays rock, paper, scissors and wins it back for him. She's done this several times already, at different tables, and won every time. I'm not sure how she's doing it.

Anyway, we finished eating, and everyone turned towards the front with a little encouragement from Romeo and Lucille, and presumably Feliciano and Lovino as well. Romulus steps up, clapping, which makes the whole room fall silent.

"Howdy!" he calls. We return it excitedly, some salutes thrown in here or there. "Welcome-again-to Camp Rome! Now that we're stuffed, I say we dance!"

There was silence at that, and conflicted murmuring. Finally someone says, "But... Sleep..."

I glance in his direction. A Greek boy with long brown hair and dark eyes, barely open, and it honestly looks like he's about to fall asleep standing up.

"Okay, no dancing," Romulus says. "Sleep?"

Loud cheers. The cheers don't sound very tired.

Nevertheless, we wander back to our cabins, and I fall into my cot. It's not as comfy as the one at home, but I feel much safer here. I don't have to worry about Madre... Until camp ends. The others do sensible things, like change clothes, or wander off to the shared bathrooms to brush teeth. I lie there, eyes cracked open. I'm too tired for movement right now.

I guess it's been a good first day-far better than I ever could've hoped for. I thought I was going to... Well, to say I thought I might be injured would be a major understatement.

So I close my eyes at last-not even under the sheets, since it's summer, and I'm grateful it gets colder at night.

It's not hard for me to drift off to sleep.

•time skip brought to you by Pottertalia

The next morning, after a breakfast of crepes and pancakes two boys volunteered to make (the first was Francis, the second... I don't quite remember his name), we really do dance.

We clear the tables, wash and put away the dishes and silverware in one huge group effort involving dozens of buckets of soapy water and several small splash fights.

Then they start a free-for-all, blasting the radio. Sweet Home Alabama-I know this tune. Alfred, one of the boys I sat with this morning, belts out the lyrics, so off-tune it almost makes me cringe.

"SWEET HOME ALABAMA, WHERE THE SKIES ARE SO BLUE~" he shout-sings, and although he's not a good singer he's alright at dancing.

I end up teaching a few people flamenco.

"Wait, like, what do I do with my hand?" Felicja asks.

"Boys put all their fingers together, girls twirl their fingers. It's called floreo for girls," I tell her with a soft sigh.

She nods-extends her arm again, places one foot forward, flicks her wrist and let her fingers twist gracefully. She's not a natural, but very determined.

And of course she dragged Toris (apparently, her new best buddy) with her.

He's practically shaking, "What am I supposed to do again?"

"Fingers together, chin up," I say. I flash him a reassuring smile. "You're doing great!"

"R-really?" he stutters as he attempts the move. It's clumsy, lopsided.

"¡Si!" I promise as I correct his posture. "¡Perfecto! Tú eres muy guapo."

"Uh... Thanks? I got the 'perfecto' part," he says.

"Bien," I say with a quiet nod. "You're doing well."

Felicja is now dancing mostly in rhythm, sort of, kind of. It doesn't fit with the music.

Nobody fits with the music, through, really, I think as I begin, shoes tapping, arms twirling. Is it possible for any of us to fit in?

Translation:

Spanish-English

Floreo-a type of flamenco hand movement, "flower."

Si-yes

¡Perfecto! Tú eres muy guapo.-perfect! You're very handsome.

Bien-good


	6. Chapter 6

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Well, I'm an idiot. Erzsébet is Hungary, guys. Sorry about that. I changed it because I saw its one other places and looked it up and it matched with the male name Eláin, which I liked. Also, Ukraine is Irunya and Belarus is Natalya.

Hungary - Erzsébet Héderváry

Ukraine - Irunya Chernenko

Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, the Veraverse au is a product of user George DeVailer's imagination and I do not own it.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: One:

Lovino Vargas's POV

Last night-the night of our first day here, when they've just arrived-Antonio asked me a question.

He began, "So, Lovi-"

"I'm not Lovi!" I protest, bolting up. Louis stirs in his sleep. Antonio just smiles, makes a little, strange laughing noise, and continues.

"So, you tricked our parents, right? And isn't this illegal?" he wondered. My eyes narrowed and he held up his hands in surrender. "Just asking, you know I'm not going to turn you in!"

"Yes..." I answer slowly. "But we have to! Y-you came from a place-well, you know what it was like better than any of us. And we file reports on parents like yours, so the law isn't completely ignorant, but... They've never said anything."

"Oh," he says with a small nod. "So you want to help, even though it's illegal. I hope your family don't do anything else illegal."

I scowl. It's not my fault we have relatives in the mafia. But as for my immediate family? "No." Well, we try not to.

"Oh, that's good," Antonio says, smiling. "And... What did you mean, parents like mine?"

"Abusive ones," I state.

"My father isn't," he says. "But... How do you even do that?"

"Evidence and a report, I told you," I say, sliding back down so my head's on the pillow. I look up at the ceiling-suppress a shudder at the small spider I see there. "Now shut up and let me sleep."

"Si," Antonio agrees. "Duermes bien."

I don't reply, just turn over and hope the spider doesn't come down here.

•time skip brought to you by the Veraverse au

Antonio and I are woken by heavy metal.

I jump to my feet, blinking. I suppress a groan when I open the window and see one of the Beilschmidt kids in the front seat of a car, blasting the music and presumably laughing his head off (it looks like it, but I can't hear a thing right now).

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" I shout. The kid-I don't remember his name, but he's the self-centered albino German minion-just flips me off.

People in other cabins are starting to wake up. I wonder briefly of the girls are getting the same rude awakening in the girl's cabin area.

-meanwhile in the girls cabins-

"Erzsébet... What?" Irunya groaned, rubbing her eyes. She wore a blue bathrobe, and was standing barefoot in the grass.

Erzsébet just grinned and screamed, "WAKE THE HELL UP, SLEEPING BEAUTIES!" She then added to Irunya, "Romulus told me to wake you guys up and gave me a car!"

Irunya stared. Emerging from her cabin, Natalya muttered, "Erzsébet... I hate you."

The moral of this lesson is that Erzsébet and Gilbert are more alike than they seem-or claim-to be.

-meanwhile in the boys cabins-

I grumble as I get dressed.

Antonio pales and freezes as he steps out of the cabin and sees the brunet arguing with the albino.

"Move out of the way, bastard," I say, trying to squeeze past him. When e doesn't move, I look at him more closely. "What is it?"

"That's Rodreich Edelstein," Antonio answers. "He made me accidentally tell my mother about... Everything."

"What do you mean?" I demand.

Antonio shrugs-pastes a fake smile on his face. "Nothing! Anyway, let's go get breakfast, I'm hungry. Who's making it?"

"Some idiots," I answer. "This conversation isn't over, you bastard. Now, make that bastard over there shut up."

Translations:

Spanish - English

Si - yes

Duermes bien - Sleep well ("you" form, so like "You sleep well.")


	7. Chapter 7

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Gotta love the rivalry between Spain and England.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Seven:

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

Embroidery. Just why did I choose this class, again? I could be playing board games or sports, or learning how to perform onstage and figure out the best comebacks in just a few seconds like Gilbert (the egotistical German-who-insists-he-is-Prussian from this morning and I struck up quite the friendship) and Francis (the guy who made crepes this morning, and one of the ones I sat down with for breakfast)

But of course, I had to do the embroidery lesson.

At least Lovino's here!

"So what the hell did you mean by that-that thing you said this morning?" Lovino demands, leaning back in his chair. He's stopped the embroidery altogether now (I don't think he liked it much in the first place, but he did sign up for Arts & Crafts). Arthur-the one who volunteered to teach it, and is way too jumpy and I think he might break my nose if I try to talk to him-doesn't notice.

I smile, my own hands working steadily, and mostly deflect the question, "Aw, cute little Lovi~ Rodreich and I just used to go to the same school, that's all."

"What did you mean, tell your mom?" Lovino asks. His cheeks are a little flushed from the compliment, which is adorable, but my smile falters.

"Made me, uh, come out of the closet," I reply lightly. "It's nothing, really! As long as he's having a good time here, right? It's better than at home!"

Lovino eyes me suspiciously. "It didn't seem like nothing earlier, especially with a mother like yours. How'd he even do that?" I just smile at him, and I don't say a word. "Answer me, tomato bastard."

I glance at him. "Tomatoes shouldn't be disgraced by being used as an insult, they're better than that."

He nods, "Damn right. Still."

"None of your beeswax~" I say, singsong.

Lovino sighs and face plants into the table. "You're like a goddamn six-year-old."

I laugh and pat his head. "I'm not like a six-year-old, Lovi! I'm at least eight!"

•time skip brought to you by Gakuen

Elise Zwingli's POV

Erzsébet and Mei are plotting again, I'm sure. They do that a lot. Sometimes I join in, sometimes I don't.

Erzsébet says something and it makes Mei laugh, so I walk over and sit beside them. "What is it?"

"It's Antonio and Lovino!" Erzsébet laughs. "Antonio already calls him Lovi, isn't that just the cutest thing?"

"Lovi...?" I wonder.

"Like Lovey," Mei says.

My mouth makes an 'O' and I nod, holding back a not-very-mature giggle. "That's so cute!"

Erzsébet suddenly straightens. "I think we need to do something about this horrifying lack of a romance! Our readers must be getting bored!"

"Our readers?" I question. Mei nods, though.

"Can't have that happen," she says. "So, I assume we'll be starting with Antonio and Lovino?"

"Hell yeah."

•time skip brought to you by mafia!au

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

I hold up the embroidered result. I think it looks beautiful.

I show it to Arthur, and he doesn't seem so pleased. "J-just w-what is the meaning of this, Antonio?"

I glance down at it. "It looks legible to me, so it should be easy to understand unless you forgot how to read your own language."

"B-but-" Arthur stutters. "What the hell?"

"No," I correct, looking up at him again calmly. A smug smile is painted across my face. "It says 'go to hell.' Good guess, though."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Have I already mentioned that Emma Maes is Belgium? Because yeah, that's her human name in my headcanon (although Emma was chosen as a likely one by Himaruya).

Sorry for length! I'm so tired I literally can hardly keep my eyes open'

Edit: Ok, now that I have slept my 6 hours I'm editing it!

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

Lovino Vargas's POV

I woke to a bump in the night-actually, more like a loud, noisy crash in the night.

I bolt up. Inside the cabin, it was nearly pitch black, so I glance outside. The stars are still out.

There comes a quiet whisper, then shuffling from right outside the window.

"Ciao...?" I call slowly, not daring to leave the relative safety of the cabin (I-I'm not a coward! Just... Logical... Yeah, that's right).

All is quiet except the chirping of the crickets and the soft snoring coming from Abel's direction. Slowly, I lay back down, staring at the ceiling in silence. Still, I'm on high alert.

"Is he asleep again?" a familiar low voice questions. Erzsébet. I tense minutely, but I'm sure not to make a sound.

"I think so," another, higher voice replies. Uh... Emma? What's she doing here? I didn't take her as someone for practical jokes...

I remain quiet and still as they climb through the window, landing on the floor with two soft thumps. Light, stealthy footsteps creak paths into the wooden floorboards. There's rustling coming from my right, and then they leave in silence.

I roll over, trying my best to look after them, but the girls are gone.

What the hell was that?

•time skip brought to you by pirate!au

The next day, Erzsébet and Emma are sporting identical bruise-like bags under their eyes, but wear oddly smug smiles on their faces. Antonio has spent the day suspended in a state of emotional confusion, but to be honest, when is he not confused?

I approach them at lunch (mealtimes are really the only times we all get together so casually).

"So, what were you two doing last night?" I wonder, and realize how bad that sounded when they blush and titter at me. "I mean-good God, you know what I mean."

"Heh, we weren't doing anything wrong," Erzsébet replies smoothly. "Trust me, it'll help you out in the long run."

"What do you mean by that?" I snap, straightening. She stares down at me-dammit, even the girls are goddamn giants here-with a cool gaze, so far unperturbed.

"Don't worry, even your brothers agree this is good for you!" Emma cuts in.

Erzsébet flashes her half a glare, with no real emotion behind it. "We weren't supposed to tell him about his brothers!"

"My brothers?" I ask. "What do they have-you know what, goodbye. Have a bad day."

And I stand, and I walk over, and I sit. I turn Feliciano's head towards me, hands on his cheeks, cutting him off mid-sentence. Ludwig watches confusedly.

"What are you planning?" I demand.

"I plan a lot of things, fratello!" he replies. I shake my head.

"What. Are. You. Planning? You know exactly what I'm talking about," I tell him.

He beams, "It's a secret~ You'll love it when it's done, though. It's just a surprise!"

"Just a surprise, huh?" I ask. I stand. "Hm. I'll... I'll wait, then."

"What just happened?" Ludwig questions. Feliciano glances back at me and I hastily leave. He leans forward to whisper something into Ludwig's ear, and the blonde nods measuredly.

Just a surprise? Hm. I'll see how this goes, then.

Translations:

Italian-English

Ciao-hello

Fratello-brother


	9. Chapter 9

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Oh my God I'm so sorry for the last chapter. I edited it yesterday morning, but seriously, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.

I haven't read any Color Police fics, nor do I know where they came from, but they do not belong to me. Are they any good...?

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Nine:

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

Louis, Emma and Abel have been acting strange lately.

Apparently they knew each other before they came to Camp Rome-volunteering or something, I don't remember-and they've only gotten better friends since. Don't get me wrong! That's wonderful and amazing and I wouldn't ever want something else for them, because it would be better if the whole world could just be friends, but... I would appreciate it if they did it without the smothered laughs and strange looks in my direction.

Lovino, too, has been acting oddly. He doesn't insult me as much anymore. Instead of seeking me out to curse at me, I have to go find him to get much of a response. Not to mention that he's been jumpy and distracted lately-almost as if he's nervous.

I wonder what he's scared of.

I can't ignore my worries, so I bear them until I can figure out the answer. I'm too nervous to do much of anything else.

I find it out during my fifth day here, when Mei sets the ball rolling.

She skips over to us before breakfast is served-this time, Yao's work, some sort of rice pudding he calls congee (all I know is that it's good!).

"Hey, Antonio," she says. "Someone said to tell you to look under the mattress, above the springs?"

"¿Qué? Who?" I ask.

She shrugs, "Someone. They said I shouldn't mention their name."

I caught her sly smile out of the corner of my eye as she slipped away. I have a feeling I know who that 'someone' was.

It was Arthur, wasn't it? He hates me now, of course he'd want to play some kind of prank on me.

Internally, I shrug. I'll check it when I get back. Whatever Arthur has planned for me can't be too bad, right?

•time skip brought to you by the Color Police

This... Wasn't Arthur, that I'm sure of.

I'm alone, which doesn't happen often. I'm sitting on my cot, which happens much more often. The slip of paper in my hands was slid beneath my mattress-really just a square of thin plastic full of stuffing. The stuffing looks a lot like clouds. I know that because Abel accidentally tore his cot once.

It reads, "Do u 3 Lovino?"

Uh... No? Where did that thought come from?

I immediately dismiss that, my mind traveling to a certain Austrian. It's too soon for that again.

But the thoughts... God, the thoughts. They torture me. I wish they didn't.

Now that I'm even considering it-now that the seed has been planted-I can't get it out of my head. I don't know where I'm going with all these emotions-just running with them, I guess, to let me see where they're taking me. I don't know yet, but I still let them drag me along.

I only start to truly panic once Lovino takes notice.

"Tomato bastard?" he whispers, trying not to wake the others up. It's been less than two days after I got the note. "You've been slacking. Explain."

"Hm? What do you mean, Lovi?" I wonder. He grits his teeth.

"I'm not Lovi! How many times do I have to tell you?" He crosses his arms with a huff. I can hardly see him in the cloudy-night darkness. "Anyway. What the hell do you think you're doing? You're always distracted and slow and not as chatty as usual. Don't tell me your anxiety is getting to you."

"Ah... Cute!" I jump forward to hug him, leaning over the short headboard. I give a short laugh. He yelps.

"Antonio! Get off!" he demands. Reluctantly, I let go.

"Nothing bad," I assure him. "Nothing bad at all. Sleep."

And as if to prove my point, I roll over and close my eyes, trying to do just that.

"Tomato bastard!" Lovino says-still at a shout/whisper-as he sits up. "You can't just do that and then go to sleep!"

"I just did," I comment cheekily. He sighs and flops back down. Long before I fall asleep (just insomnia-but why now?), his breathing evens out into slow, deep breaths. Abel and Louis are still asleep, by some miracle.

Cute! Did I really just call him that? To his face? Well, it's definitely true. He probably gets it all the time. I'm not very important (he's always saying that).

Still. Cute?

Translations:

Spanish-English

¿Qué?-What?


	10. Chapter 10

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Uh, I have a feeling we're about halfway through this, but maybe less... I don't have nearly as rigid a plot outline on this one. So it'll be 20-30 chapters, probably.

Poor Lovino. Also, yes, he is religious (just look at Italian history), but "Lord above" is usually used in an only slightly religious way, not as an actual prayer.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Ten

Lovino Vargas's POV

Did he really just call me cute?

I don't think... I don't think anyone's called me cute for years. Not since I was three or four years old, at least (it's not my age that stopped it-it was Feliciano's age, a newborn, and a year later Romeo's. Since they were born, I don't think I've ever been called cute).

Over a decade... That's a long time.

I slide down again, wrapping my blanket tightly around myself. Does he really believe that? Or is this some cruel joke? No, that's not Antonio... I need to think. I need to think and maybe, eventually, understand.

Antonio called me cute.

Lord above.

•time skip brought to you by "PASTA!"

It's been days since the "cute" incident. It's our third week with all the campers here. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but it's true.

"Lovi~" Feliciano calls. "Lovi, guess what!"

I turn slowly, a small frown on my lips, "What?"

"Grandpa Roma says he found some things for Antonio!" Feliciano bursts out, waving his hands every which way. I duck to avoid one, my mind racing. They found proof for the trial against Antonio's mother? I've seen what she's done to him. This... This is amazing.

"Why do I care?" I practically growl. He pauses, hands dropping to his sides.

"A-aren't you and Antonio... Like... Together?" he wonders.

"No!" I protest, cheeks heated. "No, we are not!"

Feliciano observes me, a tiny pout on his lips. "You would be really cute together, though..."

I pause, stunned. There's that word again. Did he really just say that? And... Why is that word always paired with Antonio?

Oblivious, Feliciano just shoots me a grin, then turns and skips back to an exasperated Ludwig's side to talk his ear off for a change. (I don't understand how Ludwig can deal with it...)

I scowl fiercely, and turn away.

•time skip brought to you by "Man up or I'll beat you with my peace prize!"

"Listen here, you bastard," I say. Antonio jumps and turns, relaxing once he sees who it is. I scowl up at him. "Why are you always so distracted? And don't you dare just ignore it this time!"

"Silly Lovi, I didn't ignore it last time," Antonio chuckles. He leans down so we're face-to-face. My scowl deepens. "I'm just a little tired, and you know my anxiety stuff," he explains.

"One of the symptoms of anxiety is hyper-vigilance, idiot," I say. "And you can't have been going through fatigue, because I've been keeping an eye on you, and yours is only mild anyway."

He pauses, eyes widening slightly, "How do you know all this stuff, Lovi? ¡Tú eres muy inteligente!"

I glare. "Feli and I are the damn doctors here, and you know what this place is like! It's practically a madhouse!" I wave my hand around. "I have to know this stuff, stupid."

He nods, seemingly unfazed by the insults scattered throughout. "Madhouse is a mean term, Lovi... Still, you have to be smart to know this stuff. So you're both smart and cute!" He smiles brightly.

I flush, shifting my weight uncomfortably as I protest, "I'm not cute!"

Antonio leans forward. He's only a few inches away from me. "You're always cute to me."

"W-wha-what, Antonio?" I ask. "What are you saying?"

He grins mischievously. "You're pretty cute, Lovi. Deal with it." Then he leans forward to kiss me.

I freeze. His lips are chapped and bit at, probably a habit when he's nervous. It lasts for only a second, but I'm left staring at him as he runs off laughing. A thousand thoughts are left racing through my mind at the same time. I blink, watching his now-solemn form slip into our cabin (I think he just realized what he did, and realized I didn't respond), and my thoughts all come together into one.

Goddammit, Antonio. You didn't give me time to kiss back.

Translations:

Spanish-English

¡Tú eres muy inteligente!-You're really smart! (basically)


	11. Chapter 11

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: I mean absolutely no offense to girls in the chapter. I am one myself. Please don't take the patriarchal stereotypes seriously. I doubt many girls pick flowers and/or sing lullabies to tired turtles (I certainly have not).

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Eleven

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

Lovino races after me into the cabin. My face is unusually solemn, lips twisted into a slight frown.

"Antonio!" Lovino demands.

"Hm?" I ask softly, turning. Lovino sighs loudly, then raises his fist. He punches me weakly in the chest-I step back, and it hardly hurts.

"That's for not warning me," Lovino says. Then, eyes glaring dangerously, he pulls me down and places a kiss on my cheek. "That's for being you. Damn you. Next time, give me a goddamn chance to say something, idiota!"

I tilt my head a little, a cautious feeling of hope sprouting in my heart like a seedling. The first thing I ask is, "Did you just call me a girl?"

He considers me. "You're girly enough. You pick flowers and sing Spanish lullabies to turtles."

"That was only one time!" I argue, "And the turtle was tired. I'm not girly!"

"Fine, fine, whatever you say. Anyways, you damn idiot, you're missing the point," Lovino huffs with a roll of his eyes. "Calm down."

"I am calm," I say. My heart is pounding, and it feels like it would burst from my chest at any moment with the amount of excitement I'm feeling.

Actually, that would be pretty gory. I don't want that.

"I know that!" Lovino hisses. I chuckle. He glares and continues in a shaky voice, "W-we can be... Together. I-if you want."

I grin, pushing sickly sweet memories of long walks and piano recitals and gentle smiles to the back of my mind. "Of course, mi amor!"

He frowns, cheeks even redder, like those tomatoes we both love so much, "What's that supposed to mean?"

I ruffle his hair. "Nothing, nothing, Lovi."

The door creaks open, and a familiar head pokes in. He hesitates, "Ah... Bad time?"

I freeze, then turn, my hands dropping to my side. "Hola, Rodreich."

"Hallo, Antonio," he returns. "And you as well, Lovino. I was wishing to discuss something with Antonio..." He pauses meaningfully, glancing at Lovino, and the Italian sighs before brushing roughly past him and out of the room.

"What is it?" I wonder. Rodreich stands there for several seconds, his face a mess of emotions, before he finally says something.

"Your mother," he begins. Another pause. "Why didn't you tell me what was happening?"

"I didn't want to burden you!" I chirp. "Anyway, it was my fault."

"How was it your fault?" he demands, stepping forward. He's a little shorter than I am. His shoes click against the wood-yes, that's just like Rodreich, to wear fancy shoes to a camp like this. (Granted, he probably thought it didn't matter what he was wearing, because I think we had the same idea about this-might as well go out looking good if we can't go out in a blaze of glory.) "I was the one that made you tell her! I was the one who kept going out with you, even when your mother told us to stop!" He pants, out of breath already. I don't reach out to steady him like I might've a few months ago.

"I was the one who knew the consequences," I reply. The smile is one from my face now. "Rodreich, it's not your fault. I think you should be dealing with your own problems now. I have my life under control!" I try for a smile. He doesn't buy it.

"But it was my fault," he says slowly, eyes fixed on his black dress shoes, the ones that click with every step.

"It wasn't," I tell him. "You can go now."

He hesitates, then turns and clicks his way back out the door.

Lovino tumbles through the window. Sitting up, he brushes himself off as I rush to his side.

"You knew him before?" Lovino asks. I grin at him-I can't help it, he's just so cute!

"¡Si!" I agree. I glance at the closed door. "I don't think I know him very well anymore, though... He's changed. Were you listening the whole time?"

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. And as long as you don't get too friendly," Lovino says with a warning glare. I laugh-"fusososo!"-and help him up.

"You don't need to worry about that," I assure him.

He glares. "Damn you."

"I like you too, Lovi!"

Translations:

Spanish-English

Mi amor-my love

Hola-hello

¡Si!-Yes!

Italian-English

Idiota-idiot

German-English

Hallo-Hello


	12. Chapter 12

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: Chiara is the name Hima liked for Nyo!Romano, but Japanese fans usually use Katerina/Caterina, according to . net! Also, apparently Lovina is used, but since it's so similar I decided not to use it. I chose Chiara because Hima liked it.

Good God I have California Dreamin' (The Mamas And The Papas) stuck in my head it's just repeating! Again! And again! And again! "All the leaves are brown~ And the sky gray~ I've been for a walk~ On a winter's day~"

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Twelve

Lovino Vargas's POV

We fall into a strange pattern of coexistence-and so far, hardly anyone seems to realize.

Except, of course, Feliciano and Ludwig's friend Kiku, who tells Erzsébet one day, who naturally informs Mei, Elise, and Emma, who then tells Abel and Louis, who-well, you get the point. Everyone knew about us to some extent, but some theories were wildly inaccurate (at least we weren't the only ones like this).

Our days hardly changed, except, occasionally, when Antonio was let off the hook after a prank with his friends (I was more than happy to yell at Francis and Gilbert, though).

But sometimes... Antonio is quiet.

With any other person, I wouldn't have cared-some people are just quiet people, like that kid... Matthew, was it?

Antonio, though... Antonio is not a quiet person, not in any sense of the word. That meant that when he was so quiet sometimes, the silence seemed to fill the whole room until I couldn't hear anything else. I was worried-no! I wasn't worried! Where did that thought come from?

But I was at least... Irritated.

Antonio is sitting on his bed. He's gone all quiet again, tying neat little knots into a piece of string he found somewhere.

"Why're you so quiet all the sudden?" I challenge, glaring over at him from my bed. He stops, glancing up at me and quickly pastes a smile on his face (my own frown deepens at that-he should know he doesn't have to fake it when he's around me).

"No sé," he shrugs. "Felt right? Uh... Are you feeling okay, Lovi? You're looking very frowny over there."

I scowl more just to spite him. "I'm perfectly fine, you bastard. Now. Tell me the damn truth or I'll make you. Why are you so quiet?"

"Do you want me to be loud?" he wonders. "I thought you'd want me to be calmer so I didn't annoy you."

"I asked first! And you're an idiot," I retort weakly.

"Okay, okay, Lovi," he chuckles. "I was just wondering how we would still talk after I went back home to Madre?"

"That woman's not your mother," I hiss, half-rising. My hands grip the sheets so tight I start to think I might rip them.

"I can't change it, Lovi," he says. "Anyway, how-"

"Chigi, we can change it! We're working on legal cases, just the other day Feliciano found some files to go against your mother in court as a separate entity from Camp Rome. Mr. Beilschmidt-Potato has the training to be a lawyer. We can get you out of there!" I exclaim.

"I'm... Grateful, Lovi," he says after a few moments it take it all in. "Muchas gracias."

"Damn well better be," I huff.

"But still, how will I talk to you?" he questions. "I don't think Madre would let me."

"Chigi, we're getting you out of there!" I insist. "But in the meantime... Just say I'm whoever you think she'd let you write."

"Well, does she know we're... Making friends and stuff?" he asks. I sigh.

"I don't know, I don't know what she expected, I don't know the extent of what she knows now, I don't know," I mutter.

"I know! What girl names do you like?" he demands suddenly, grin bright and back in full force.

"W-well... Uh... Chiara is a nice name, I suppose," I stutter out in surprise. "But... Caterina is okay too... Why?" I ask, a suspicion growing in the back of my mind.

"Well, if I'm writing or calling this 'Chiara' girl on the phone, Madre won't mind at all! She'll think the camp worked, but I'll be able to talk to you!" he explains cheerily.

I grit my teeth. "Fine."

"Estoy muy feliz, ¡gracias Lovi!" He's grinning.

I can't be angry at him for long when he's grinning like that, so I stop destroying my teeth and turn back to my failure of a drawing with a huff. "You better be."

Translations:

Spanish-English

No sé-I don't know

Muchas gracias-Thank you very much (lit. much thanks)

Estoy muy feliz, ¡gracias Lovi!-I'm very happy, thank you Lovi! (I apologize to any better Spanish speakers, I think that's grammatically correct, sorry if I'm wrong).


	13. Chapter 13

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: I think I was wrong! This story went a lot faster than I had thought, probably cause I hardly had a plot in mind when it started. I'm guessing somewhere around a total of 15 chapters, so about 2 more? Maybe 3?

I STILL HAVE CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' STUCK IN MY HEAD WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.

. edu is where I found all this stuff about testifying in court for child abuse! Antonio here just went through physical abuse, yeah, I'm not that evil. Although he has mild anxiety as a result, it's not severe enough to count as mental abuse apparently.

Child Welfare Information Gateway is also where I got some info on witnesses from.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Thirteen

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

The days are passing so quickly now, like blur, as routines settle and soon enough I'm almost used to life here.

Lovino is going to defend me in court. He says what my mother did to me was illegal.

"I didn't know that," I reply, absently glancing at an old scar with new ideas swirling in my mind.

"She wouldn't have told you," Lovino says, "She doesn't want you getting any ideas like this, would she?"

"I guess not," I agree, leaning over his notes. There's a lot of them. "How do we prove this stuff, though?"

"Witnesses," he smirks. "There's me, for one-remember when she dropped you off? And we need to find other people, too. Not to mention all your scars. Mr. Beilschmidt-Potato is a good lawyer. Grandpa Roma is going to be your adult attendant, so he'll be there with you all the way. We'll manage it."

I only notice my hands are shaking when Lovino turns in his chair to reach out and take them in his, steadying them. "We're not losing this, you bastard. Don't you dare think for even a second I'd just abandon you like that. You're an idiot, you need help, you're gonna get it whether you like it or not."

I smile, "Gracias, Lovi, but I didn't say I thought you'd just leave me, or that I didn't want-"

"Whether you like it or not," he repeats slowly, his voice low and dangerous.

"O-okay then Lovi, I-sure. Sure," I say, taking an unconscious step back. "Whatever you say."

"That attitude's not going to get you anywhere in court~" He's practically singing. How is he changing emotions this quickly? I'm a little confused again.

"Alright, can you tell me what I'm supposed to do, then?" I wonder. He pauses, then a cautious-well, not a smile, but distinct lack-of-frown spreads across his face.

"I can," he says, turns in back to his notes. He pats the cot beside him and I sit down, leaning over his shoulder. "Here. We'll need to know this at least a week earlier, anyway-you can testify through a TV if you're too scared. Are you too scared?"

"N-no," I stutter, although the very idea of talking in front of so many people like that-especially about Madre-makes me want to gag.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," he sighs, scribbling something onto his notes. I can't read them much. Maybe I'll have to help him with his handwriting one day.

One day when this is all over.

•time skip brought to you by "There's a 99% chance of shit storm and it's comin' right at ya!"

Five weeks. We're finishing everything up. Just one more thing we need.

"¿H-hola, Rodreich?" I call, running up to him. He pauses his conversation with Erzsébet, turns around and keeps his expression carefully emotionless all the while.

"Antonio," he says simply.

"Ah, could I talk to you for a second?" He's silent. "¿Por favor?"

"One moment, Erzsébet," he says at last, following me just out of earshot. "What do you want?"

His lips are tightly pursed, his eyes narrowed and calculating. His arms are crossed per his chest. He doesn't trust me right now.

"I..." I trail off, rubbing the back of my neck. How do I word this? He doesn't give me time to think it through properly, merely raises an impatient eyebrow. "I need a witness. Confidential informat. And you're the last one who can do it."

"Last?" he wonders.

"Lovino could too, he saw Madre for a few minutes when she dropped me off, but you've seen more than just that and please, Rodreich," I pause my rambling an try to collect my thoughts. "I need help," I admit in a small voice.

"So you do," he replies. There's only a few seconds of a wait. "Fine."

"¡Muchas gracias, Rodreich!" I beam, nearly throwing my arms around him but just barely restraining myself.

"Just don't bother me otherwise," he huffs.

I'm still beaming as I bounce back to tell Lovino the news.

Translations:

Spanish-English

Gracias-Thank you

Por favor-Please

Muchas gracias, Rodreich-Thank you so much, Rodreich


	14. Chapter 14

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' NOOO

Poll: Nordic 5 and Sealand get superpowers or before America was the United States?

law. cornell. edu is where I found all this stuff about testifying in court for child abuse! Antonio here just went through physical abuse, yeah, I'm not that evil. Although he has mild anxiety as a result, it's not severe enough to count as mental abuse apparently.

Child Welfare Information Gateway is also where I got some info on witnesses from.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Fourteen

Lovino Vargas's POV

Four weeks. Antonio's practically shaking. He got the German music-bastard to be a witness for him. I don't remember what exactly he saw, just that those two used to walk to school together. From the obvious tension between them, so thick I half-expect to be able to feel it, I know they were more than just that.

Now is not the time! I have to concentrate. I only have four weeks until camp ends and we take this to court. As usual, there's a frisson of anxiety beforehand. There's so many cases to handle-Irunya, Ivan and Natalya are first, and Yong Soo Im, and next is Michelle, and Lukas and Emil too, and-

Stop.

I take a slow breath and set my pen down. My hands are trembling, smudged with ink. I didn't notice.

"Lovi, is something wrong?" a familiar voice wonders. Antonio comes up behind me, leaning over me to look at the paperwork. "Nothing looks wrong."

"Grazie, Antonio," I say quietly, half-turning. He glances down at me, eyes mossy green and thick with confusion. I straighten, my frown set back in place. "But don't get cocky! Don't you have something better to do than talk at me?"

"No," Antonio says. "Talking with you is the best."

I snort and turn back to my notes. Time to work on the notes for Irunya, Ivan and Natalya.

•time skip brought to you by "Crap, my fish!"

Three weeks. There's so much work to be done and so little time to do it. We're trying to handle the most severe cases first-Eduard, Raivis, Toris, Arthur, others. Although Arthur was more his brothers than his mother, actually. I jot down the note in the margins.

However, that only puts more stress on the campers. They know their time is almost up. That we're still not ready. And that they'll be forced to live with their parents again if we fail.

Of course, not everyone has abusive parents. There's people like Kiku-Feliciano and Ludwig's other best friend-whose parents simply seemed confused about this whole "pansexuality" thing. Matthew, whose parents sent him here in hope of him finding a way to stand up for himself (I think he has, just not in the way they expected). There's many more, but... A startling number shake in fear when they so much as think of their home. Some of them have been calling Camp Rome their second home. They don't shiver then.

•time skip brought to you by "I once killed a man in his sleep with his mustache and a grape."

Two weeks. Our work is starting to pay off. We're well on our way to success, and we only have a few last minute things before we start reporting people.

Ludwig, Basch, Elise, Rodreich and Gilbert are going to be staying here with Mr. Beilschmidt-Potato (suddenly, mysteriously, their parents wanted their children to go stay with their grandfather. It's not at all suspicious, I'm sure. I'm happy for Feliciano, even though I hate the macho potato himself).

When was the last time I got a full night's sleep? I can hardly remember. Convicting one person is hard enough, but over fifty? It's insane. I don't know how we've done it before this.

Antonio asks if there's anything he can do to help. I tell him not to worry and also to "shut up, I'm stressed out of my mind right now." He says it's not my fault and smiles. Damn that smile.

•time skip brought to you by "I'm in North Africa right now and I can't tie my shoelaces!"

One week. I'm registering Antonio to testify through a 2-way television. He says he doesn't want to do it in front of everyone-definitely not his mother.

Damn you, sleep. Making me recite my last few weeks. I yawn and stretch. I've gotten used to the spiders and cobwebs in here (well, almost... As long as they stay away from my stuff!). The nighttime darkness doesn't bother me anymore either.

Abel, Louis, and Bella (she's around here so often it's almost like she lives here too) seem nervous. Louis is going to be behind a TV, like Antonio. He's going later on because he hasn't had anything majorly physical happen yet.

"Hey, Lovino," Abel grunts one day. I pause and turn, gesturing impatiently for him to speak. He points. "Bunny."

I raise an eyebrow, then follow the gesture. Sure enough, at the edge of the woods, a small gray bunny sits and nibbles at the grass.

"Mm," I hum. "Soft-looking." I'm so tired I hardly know what I'm saying. Then I go back to working.

Abel frowns slightly.

•time skip brought to you by "Thanks a million, next time why don't you just stab me in the chest WITH A SPATULA?"

One day. Antonio's subdued, but still grinning widely and trying to help the best he can. The parents who're being charged know what's going on, and I'm sure they'll try to sue us. We always find a way to prove them wrong. The terms and conditions are our friend.

Last minute preparations. Grandpa Roma and Mr. Beilschmidt-Potato have it even worse than I do. I can't imagine how they're managing this.

Abel mentions this morning at breakfast, almost like an afterthought, that once this mess is over he has a present to give me.

Antonio says he hopes he doesn't get to call me Chiara (even though he thinks it's a "cute name, Lovi!") because he'll be-he'll be free by then. From his mother, he says. Yeah, um. I'm not sure what I think about that right now. But I love him, so... There's always that.


	15. Chapter 15

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: HELLO DUDES/DUDETTES! (Lol yes I'm American). This has been so much fun to write, and I'm so happy that my second long(ish, not really)fic is almost done! After this, I just got the epilogue! Thank you guys, people who reviewed, favorited or followed, and anyone else for supporting me!

I've been doing pretty short chapters and updating daily, which is stopping now! Sorry, but I can't quite keep up, so it'll be a 1000+ word count every two days in later fics! And that brings me to my next point...

POLL: Nordic 5 and Sealand get superpowers or before America was the United States? GO DO IT! :D

law. cornell. edu is where I found all this stuff about testifying in court for child abuse! Antonio here just went through physical abuse, yeah, I'm not that evil. Although he has mild anxiety as a result, it's not severe enough to count as mental abuse apparently.

Child Welfare Information Gateway is also where I got some info on witnesses from.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Fifteen

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo's POV

One hour. I'm so nervous.

2-way, closed circuit television. I just have to say the things-I glance down at the piece of paper Lovino gave me before we left, running over the proper formatting and wording again in my mind (not that anything official really exists, no cheat sheet on this test, no easy answers to be found)-and I'll be alright. Madre won't be able to get to me anymore.

But the thing is, I don't want her to get hurt. I want her to stop, but she is the woman who raised my brother and I. She is the woman who taught me to speak. She is the woman who sung me lullabies until she found out. Why can't we just... I don't know. What am I saying?

Mr. Vargas-Lovino's grandpa-is singing along with the radio. He's nearly as bad a singer as Alfred. Mr. Beilschmidt is ignoring him studiously, with practiced ease, and instead focusing on the road.

Michelle is beside me, since her trial-or, testifying-is today too. I haven't spoken to her much before. She has delicate dark skin and kind almond eyes, and wears a big red bow in her dark hair. She's younger than me. "How far?" she asks, leaning forward a little.

"You'll see," Mr. Beilschmdt answers. Michelle sighs because he always says that.

So we wait and I start up a word game, peering out the car window and trying to steady my panicked, too-quick breathing.

•time skip brought to you by "I WANT THE CAMERA TO GET MY BEST SIDE!"

"Lovi!" I shout, jumping out of the car and racing to his side. His scowl falters, just for a moment.

"Antonio," he returns. "How did it go?"

"It went really, really well!" I burst out. "I don't know if I'm allowed to talk about the details, but I think they believe me! Michelle's went pretty good too! ¡Muchas gracias, Lovi!"

"I-it wasn't all me," he stutters, cheeks dusted pink. I laugh and hug him tighter. For once, he doesn't protest.

"But you did a lot! Thank you!" I burst out. He pushes away from me and reluctantly, I let him go.

"Thank you too," he says after a few moments. He starts pulling me back towards the Camp Rome main house. It's where I'll be staying until the case is sorted out.

"Love you!" I add cheerfully, beaming down at him. His eyes widen slightly and I feel a burst of panic. What was I thinking?

He sighs and mutters, "Yeah, I love you too, you bastard."

Translations:

Spanish-English

¡Muchas gracias!-thank you so much!


	16. Epilogue

Title: When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

Rating: M

Talking: HAHA I AM FINISHED

SIT BACK-OR LEAN FORWARD, I'M NOT GONNA TELL YOU WHAT TO DO-AND ENJOY THE STORY!

POLL: THE NORDIC 5 WITH SUPERPOWERS OR AMERICA BEFORE IT WAS UNITED?

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Italy Romano - Lovino Vargas

Spain - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo

Austria - Rodreich Edelstein

Roman Empire - Romulus Vargas

Germania - Gauthier Beilschmidt

When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do: Epilogue

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo POV

"Hey, bastard!" Lovino calls.

"¿Qué?" I wonder, turning. I smile as I see what he's looking at, despite the painful memories it brings back. "Oh, yeah, that's mine. It's a guitar."

"No kidding," he says. "You play?"

"¡Si!" I chirp, picking it up. The weight is comforting. I've been playing guitar-not this one, different ones-since I was only nine. "Here, listen!"

The song is familiar to me. I performed it at a recital a long time ago, but I still know it all by heart. I hum along with the tune, my foot tapping time to the music and eventually I grin as I catch Lovino's frown fade from his face.

"You like it?" I ask suddenly. I don't pause the song, don't falter.

Lovino gives a tiny, absent nod, which is followed by a quiet noise of agreement. "It's almost decent," he admits reluctantly.

I beam. That's practically a declaration of love when it's from him. "¡Muchas gracias, Lovi!"

He stares at the guitar and doesn't reply for a long while. Finally, he demands gruffly, "Hey! Teach me, bastard."

My smile brightens and I shake my head. "I have to get unpacked first, Lovi! After that, we'll have all the time in the world, though."

Our romance was not a fairytale. I'm not even sure it'll have a happy ending-I hope so!

I was forced. My mother, close-minded, ordered me to a hellhole. I thought I might die there-I had read the news, after all, heard rumors from my friends.

I found that it wasn't that-that it wasn't that at all. That it was much more of a home than a hellhole (probably even more so for Lovi!). We lived there, just me and Lovino and the rest against the world.

Fighting back was surprisingly easy. Just a few words and an interview (although it was a terrifying one) and it was all over. Of course, there was more that followed, and a whole lot of stress and frustration, but... We did it. Just us, just me and Lovino. Mostly.

We don't hold hands very often, and there aren't any kisses, not unless we're sure we're alone. Lovino says he doesn't want to because his brothers will tease him forever. I'm happy as long as he is, so I don't try to change his mind. I play my guitar for him sometimes-it was in my old house, when I went back there to get my stuff to move to Camp Rome. I'm going to help out around here next year, like Lucille did, and try to find my father and brother.

We changed my life, and so many other people's lives, all for the better (when I tell Lovino that, I think he'll frown and call me weird or too lovey-dovey. I don't even know how that works!).

We were just children.


End file.
